My Dad

My dad

It’s hard to explain

How much I care about him

His life is for mine

He sacrificed

So I would not

He made space and time for me

He made me an equal to my brother

I can do anything because my dad says so

So I do

And it works

And I am because of him

And the sacrifices he made for me

So young when I came along

So brave and hardworking

So strong and silly in equal measures

Made me laugh till I cried

Made me laugh when I cried

Made the pain a little less

Distracted me

Made me fearless

He says he is proud of me

But he should be proud of himself

It was funny when my hair fell out

And I looked in the mirror

Wow there’s my dad!

Button nose, blue eyes

Blinking back

If I can be a parent like my dad

Hard working and strong

The way he keeps growing

Always learning

And if I can give myself

And make my child

Feel so secure

I will be proud

And thank my dad.


© Jennifer Winterburn


4 thoughts on “My Dad

  1. Lovely. Moving. I met my father twice – once, a sailor home from the war, when 2.1/2 years old – I don’t remember; once when he was dying in Middleton, Ilkley, hospital from TB from years on minesweepers on the cold, harsh ocean – no cures then. But, as I understand it, I’ve inherited one or two characteristics – a love of playing the piano (I badly), classical, and of jazz – though I have never, as he did, played it – saxophone and clarinet.


    1. I am sorry to hear that. And what a story. It’s strange when we are at distance from parents. For me its my mother. They still leave a mark, I think it is inevitable. The gift of music is a beautiful thing for you to have. It’s sad most of us do not have the relationship we want with family. Thanks for your comment x


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